Her Name was Lola
by Jenifuru
Summary: Professional ballroom dancing was the only means of spicing up Kagome's mundane life. That is until she finds herself having to substitute celebrity superstar Kikyou Kaguya. Only Kikyou's piano accompanist, Sesshoumaru, suspects Kagome's identity.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or any of these characters.

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Kagome was a professional. Kagome was a professional. Kagome was professional.

_She was a professional dancer, damn it!_

She had performed on stages a bazillion times with audiences of all shapes and sizes. And on none of these occasions had she been frightened. Well, there was that one incident where she had a serious clothing malfunction during Midnight Mumbo Blast. What little bits of white layers that wrapped around her torso to form a fitting ballroom dress had all but disintegrated. She was left cha-cha-cha-ing and twirling her way around the bits of white fabric on the wooden floor. The audience for a straight 3 minutes and 49 seconds had had a clear view of, well, everything.

But that was just _one _performance, Kagome mentally hissed at herself. And besides, what she was wearing _now _was _much_ less revealing. She had on at least a good 6 in2 more fabric than the white, hoochy dress she had worn for Midnight Mumbo Blast. And, well… what _exactly_ was she wearing right now?

Still hidden backstage, Kagome had time to briefly glance down her figure. She was wearing a pink, layered mini-skirt that was well above her knees, a light-pink sequence shirt (was it a shirt or a bra?), metallic 2-inched boots that came up mid-shin, and a fitting, black blazer with a line of metallic buttons lining the cuffs.

Kagome eagerly pulled at her mini-skirt and mini-shirt hoping to cover up more of her exposed self while briefly wondering how the stylist had squeezed her into the ridiculously revealing outfit without her notice? The past two hours had been a blur. In fact, the past week had been a blur. The series of seemingly ludicrous events had all led up to this moment.

This one moment where she didn't have to be Kagome Higurashi, because she was Kikyou Kaguya. A famous pop singer- not a friendless, broke college student struggling to carve out a living.

She desperately grasped onto anything to convince herself why this was going to work.

_Because she was a professional dancer!_

_Because, from head to toe, she was dressed like Kikyou!_

Amid the dull roar of thousands of excited people chanting Kagome's "name," Kagome made out the distinct, slightly high-pitched voice of Shippo a few feet behind her.

"Kaguya-san! There you are!"

Kagome spun around to face him, still surprised of his young age even after working closely with him for week. Shippo looked no older than she did yet he stood confidently and important-looking with a mini-tablet attached to his forearm by Velcro.

"I've been looking for you!" He exclaimed, and then quickly speaking to his earpiece, "Yes, yes, I've found her! Prep the hydraulics!"

Focusing his attention back on Kagome, he said "You'll be going on in five minutes! We need you on the hydraulics right now! Do you have your ear piece?"

Kagome felt for the hard plastic hanging securely around her ear and the speaker attached to it. She felt for the bumps where the rhinestones were. Shippo, after checking the device, spun her around to check the small module discretely strapped to her back, under the hem of her mini-shirt. After seeing that they were secure and working properly, he led her down a flight of steps and through several corridors pushing past the hustle of dozens of busy, active people. Kagome recognized some to be her backup dancers and singers. Some were undistinguishable workers; others were members of her live band. Aside from the workers, all were dressed as flamboyant and revealing as she.

Unaccustomed to the dim lighting, Kagome allowed Shippo to grasp her arm and lead her.

Once they were essentially under the stage itself, Shippo did one last wardrobe check.

"Alright, you know how it's going to happen- remember to smile and to go through all the things we've rehearsed."

Kagome, now starting to feel herself tremble, nodded nervously while doing a frantic review of her rehearsal.

Shippo grasped her shoulders, which was awkward considering his short stature, and looked straight into her eyes, "Hey, it's going to be okay. This isn't your first concert, Kaguya-san! Just kill it like you did in the past!"

Kagome could only smile nervously.

"You have two minutes; I'll be back real quick to count you down." Shippo then darted off while pressing the screen of his tablet.

Kagome inhaled deeply, trying to calm her breathing and her nerves. She loudly exhaled and shook her arms and legs trying to get back feeling into them all to no avail as she remained meek, cold, and frightened of the aspect of failure.

She tried again to reassure herself. This was going to work…

_Because she, for the past week and up to about three hours ago, had rehearsed the choreography and routine over and over!_

"Good luck, Kikyo!" some of the backup dancers hollered at her as they quickly got into their own positions. Kagome nervously smiled back.

_Because Naraku said she was a spitting image of Kikyou!_

"I expect you will do extraordinarily well." A low voice said close behind her.

Briefly startled out of her nervousness, Kagome turned to face the speaker and was surprised to find it belonged to the handsome piano accompanist, Sesshoumaru.

Something was cleverly hidden in his message. Unable to decipher his true nature and what he intended in his message, Kagome searched his amber eyes for any hint to go along the suspicious tone hidden in his voice.

His alluring eyes, although half hidden under the dimness of the light, were sharp and bright. She traced his eyes down the line of his high nose to his perfect lips, which were at the moment smirking.

Above all the noise, Kagome heard Shippo cry, "Kaguya-san! You're going on at 5…4…3…"

Kagome was already positioned on the hydraulics that would lift the platform she was on so that she would be leveled with the stage above. She would make her grand entrance.

Forgetting Sesshoumaru, she braced herself.

"_2…."_

_And most importantly_, she told herself, _this was going to work because she didn't have to sing __**live**__._

"_1!"_

This was why this was all going to work.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or any of these characters.

When she surfaced on the shining stage the roar of the fans became impossibly louder.

There was darkness everywhere and yet there seemed to be too much light. There were many people- "How many?" she wondered. Hundreds? Thousands? Ten thousand? She vaguely remembered a year ago when she had gone to the Staples Center in LA to watch The Gipsy Kings. When they performed their catchy "Bamboleo," the ground floor had instantly converted into a dance floor with hundreds of couples dancing rhythmically in some form of mixed Latino flair. When the song ended she was overcome then with the sheer volume of the audience- entangled limbs, the uncomfortable, radiating heat, and sweat. It was enough to leave her claustrophobic for the following weeks. Surely, she wondered, there were _thousands_ more here tonight than that concert.

_The music starts. It's just the intro._

_Walk. Walk. Walk. Sharp stomps. Like a model._

_The music abruptly stops-_

_Pose! _

On cue, Kagome angled her body seductively.

She could hear Gordon in the back of her mind, yelling at her again during the rehearsals, "stop-stop-stop-STOP the music! Kikyou, what's wrong with your fingers? QUIT extending your fingers out like that! Honey, you're dancing like you're a Latin ballroom dancer. For God's sake, be a little more subtle. Less flashy! Like this-"

And with a feminine dexterity that even the most gorgeous women were incapable of possessing, Gordon posed. And Kagome learned.

_The music starts again._

_Pose-POSE!_

Had her nerves not been well habituated through years of performing exotic dances, she would have frozen on the spot a long time ago. As it was, she was Kagome Higurashi-a practically friendless, absolutely broke, yet extraordinarily ambitious University student. And although through some twist of fate she had been thrown into hell for the last week, she was not a delicate girl that would, in this situation, wonder why such unfortunate circumstances had befallen on her. Rather, as she strut the stage in her silver boots, smiling as if she were confident, a small sense of excitement took hold of her core and began to replace her initial nervousness.

_She could feel her confidence radiating. She could feel the warmth of the light shining solely on her._

_Flip your hair-turn-hip-hip-turn-POP._

_The music stops abruptly again._

The fans were going mad with excitement. Some screaming- others crying.

Her back was now facing the audience. Twisting her torso so that the audience could see the side of her face, she tucked a loose lock behind her ear and smiled alluringly- just enough to leave the audience wanting more.

There was Gordon's voice from rehearsal again-"Be the bitch, Kikyou! Make them want more! I want moreeee!"

"Be the w-what?" Kagome had asked, absolutely baffled. In her dictionary, being a bitch had positively negative connotations.

"You heard me! BE the bitch- work the audience! Work it!"

So here she was, she thought cynically. Being the "bitch" and "working it" like Kikyou had always done.

_A short choreography ensued in which her backup dancers finally accompanied her. No singing yet. Just a small appetizer for the hungry._

When it ended, she finally spoke to the audience.

With a voice sounding more confident than she felt she said, "How's everyone doing tonight?"

The responding deafening roar took her by surprise. Looking out she could see not see beyond the first several rows of people. However, she could see large signs and banners baring Kikyou's name and face. When she began to talk again, the roar died down.

"It is an honor and a pleasure to be here with you tonight. This is my first concert in Las Vegas-"

A lone person hollered initiating another roar which took seconds to die down again.

It was working. She really was going to pull the whole thing off! She thought excitedly.

With a surge of confidence, she exclaimed, "I love Las Vegas!"

An immediate wave of applause and approval vibrated through even the steel infrastructure of the building. Kagome could have sworn she could feel the sound waves gently pressing her. Surely the thunderous roar could be heard even from the moon, kagome thought dizzyingly.

So the endlessly tortuous rehearsals weren't in vain after all. All the harsh criticisms she endured from Gordon seemed trivial at this point because at the moment everything was perfect. This was where she was meant to be. Every fiber of her being felt oddly in tune with her actions. At this point there was a burning sensation of excitement in her abdomen. All along she had longed to be someone everyone knew- not necessarily glamorous or famous. Just a somebody. Although she would only be Kikyou temporarily, she would relish the moment. She would relish it and live it because when it was all over she would die again and revert back to Kagome.


	3. Chapter 3

For about a week prior to the concert Sesshoumaru had been discretely observing Kikyou during rehearsals. For a while he had the odd suspicion that Kikyou was an entirely different person. For the past week, she had been easily flustered by the choreography directors-especially Gordon- when they suggested she do several provocative moves. In normal circumstances, Kikyou would be readily agreeable and, at times, aggressive at making sure her moves were suggestive. Wanting to outshine the industry's latest pop-star, she was always shamelessly pushing impropriety and exposure to a whole other level.

Another thing was that Kikyou, for the past week, had been polite to her backup dancers. To put it simply, anyone and everyone who had ever encountered her would say the girl was haughty and self-conceited. However, recently she had thanked her dancers over and over again during rehearsals and had apologized for making them practice overtime. This was what had originally induced Sesshoumaru to the notion that this Kikyou was different.

She was a typical celebrity whose rise to stardom had made her presumptuous; this part was mundane to Sesshoumaru, and he had never been interested in her predictable life. Yet the last several days had him convinced that she was not the same haughty girl. He would have been completely disinterested had it not been for that one day.

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_She nervously clutched her copy of "At Last." It was a time-proven classic from the 40's. _

"_Just sing."_

"_S-sing? This song?" _

_Sesshoumaru's fingers rested over the porcelain keys, ready. _

_He stared impatiently at her._

"_Kaguya-sama, we only have a few days before your concert. We need to practice to get the timing right."_

_The studio was cold and his fingers were starting to get numb. If they didn't start soon he'd have to do another brief warm-up. _

_She glanced nervously between him and the music sheet she held in her hands. After a few seconds, she let out a deep breath and slumped her shoulders as if she had made a grave decision._

"_Alright, but I'll have you know I'm not feeling well. So, my voice may not… may not sound the way it usually does."_

_Whatever, Kikyou, Sesshoumaru thought unbelieving. _

_He had met Kikyou several months ago when he was hired to be her piano-accompanist for her upcoming concert. Since then, he had doubts as to the exceptionality of her voice; it would have been no surprise if Kikyou turned out to be another statistic to society's long list of illegitimate singers. However, his suspicions were never confirmed as she often performed while singing along to her own soundtrack. The soundtrack was always adjusted so that it nearly drowned out her live, singing voice. This in of itself should have been enough evidence for Sesshoumaru._

_Surprisingly enough, her voice coach had not accompanied her for the rehearsal. Had she given up on Kikyou? Sesshoumaru amused himself with the thought. _

_He was here for the paycheck, he reminded himself. It didn't matter to him if the girl could sing or not._

_Let's get this over with…_

_He closed his eyes and started playing._

"_At… last..." her voice started out soft and low then drawled out sensually._

"_my love has come along."_

Sesshoumaru's eyes shot wide open.

_That voice!_

"_My lonely days are over." she sang with her eyes closed._

_Although her eyes were closed, he tried hard not to let the surprise show on his face. Her voice was surprisingly strong and soul-charged, carrying lazily over the melody with the distinct ring of American blues. Sesshoumaru had never heard a pop-singer belt out notes with such soul and emotion._

"_And life is like a song…" she sang with heartfelt inflections, and Sesshoumaru could see those emotions play across her face._

_Her voice was nowhere near Etta James, yet it had a distinct thunder of its own._

_Sesshoumaru closed his eyes again and allowed her voice to swift him away to an older decade where there were Jazz aficionado's and romanticized army soldiers. Self-sufficient women, heels, war, and Hiroshima. Like an old black-and-white film he envisioned the events played out through the decade. It had all happened a long time ago to a generation that lived long before him, but her hypnotic voice had made everything so vivid. He could feel the pain and optimism of that generation. He felt their excitement as they revolutionized medicine, as cultural taboos were broken, as they gained rights, as they lost loved ones over-seas…_

"_For you are mine…."Her voice rose up into a powerful bravado._

"_At last…"_

_And as he finished the song off sweetly with his notes, he watched her carefully open her eyes as if she had woken from a dream. When the effect of her own singing had worn away, she immediately looked to his face apprehensively._

"_Ah-ah, thank you, Sesshoumaru-san. I think that'll be all for today."_

_And without looking back, she grabbed her music sheets and water-bottle and shuffled her way out of the studio room. _

_Unbeknownst to her, Sesshoumaru warily eyed her until she walked out the door._

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Because the atmosphere of the song called for a complete 180 degree turn from her "bubblegum-pop" image, Kagome found herself having another wardrobe change behind the stage.

She was squeezed into a strapless, red mermaid dress with an exaggerated hem that dragged several feet behind. The hair and makeup stylists had collaborated to create the illusion of 1930's grandeur; her hair had been pinned up into a neat bun, and when she blinked it was not without the weight of false lashes heavy on her lids.

Staring at her reflection in the dressing room, Kagome couldn't help but touch her face in awe.

Was this really her?

And before her hand could inspect the length of the false lashes, it was playfully slapped from her face by the makeup stylist.

"You touch your face-you die, sweetheart" Miguel threatened playfully as he applied blush to Kagome's face.

It was not just Sesshoumaru who sensed a change in heart in Kikyou. The makeup artist had sensed it too, and had it not been for Kagome's polite demeanor, Miguel would never have been so playful.

"Is this really me?" Kagome asked pressing her cheeks again.

She was used to flashy, flamboyant makeup for her ballroom dancing. The delicate, sophisticated work Miguel had done now made the makeup of her ballroom dancing days seem prostitute-like.

"Yes, and I can do all sorts of wonderful magic with your makeup if you would just-stop-touching-your face." Miguel said whilst pulling away the offending hand from her face.

When Kagome ceased her attempts to touch her face, Miguel continued his work enthusiastically.

"Oh I just know Naraku's going to give me a bonus for this. He said, 'Give me a Marilyn Monroe, Miguel.' But no-no-no, this Miguel knew better! I told him: 'that chica is no Marilyn, Naraku. She is NO Marilyn.' Cause' look at you!" with his free hand Miguel indicated towards Kagome's torso.

Kagome glanced down to see what he was pointing out. She looked back questioningly at Miguel.

"You got no hips, honey. You got NO hips. So I said, 'Naraku, she's a Hepburn. She's gonna'-be- a Epburn'.'

Now that Miguel mentioned it, Kagome could now see the slight Audrey Hepburn resemblance. Miguel had even given her a fake mole. The mole pulled her classic look together.

The wonders of a simple, fake mole, Kagome thought amused.

Her look in its simplicity was now nothing short of flawless. It was vintage. She was the epitome of timeless, classic beauty- the type of beauty that held dignity in place of cheap exposure.

"Thank you, Miguel!" Kagome hugged Miguel suddenly.

At first wide-eyed at Kikyou's abrupt display of affection, Miguel began swatting at her back when he got hold of his senses.

"Oh, Kiki, no need to say thanks. It's my job, you know." Miguel said trying to make the atmosphere more professional.

He was unsure as to what transpired the girl to hug him, although that was not to say he didn't like the change. When she didn't let go of him, he simply patted her on the back.

"Kaguya-san! You're getting back on in two minutes!" Shippo hollered outside of the dressing room.

"OH GOD! Come on, Kiki. Let's get you moving!"

And as Kagome made her way backstage to the hydraulics, Miguel held onto the hem of her overflowing skirt, lifting it from the ground.

"Be careful with the dress, Kiki! Nora told me the fabric was imported from Italy!" Miguel hollered over the hustle and bustle of the backstage.

Kagome looked back and nodded while trying to pretend she understood what he had said, but the truth was that there were too many people talking to her at once that she was disoriented.

When Kagome was finally being lifted back onto the stage, Miguel cried out so that anyone and everyone within vicinity could hear, "That's my Kiki-chan! She's gonna do great!"

Upon hearing the endearment "Kiki," most of the backstage workers thought that the eccentric makeup artist had finally gone too far. No one called Kaguya-san anything _but_ "Kaguya-san" if they wanted to live to tell their children about it.

"You get-em, Kiki!" he said with tears welling in his eyes.

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She stood tall and erect next to a white, grand Steinway. Its handsome master was already seated; Sesshoumaru wore a sharp, tailored suit to match. He watched Kagome for her indication that she was ready, and when she eyed him knowingly he placed his long, slender fingers on the porcelain keys and began playing.

_Moon River._

The song was easy enough to play. The song was written under a simple key. It had a simple melody reminiscent of the olden decade its composer had written it. Sesshoumaru poured over the introduction with ease. He held his eyes closed as he instinctively knew every note.

"Moon… r-river…" Kikyou's sang out feebly.

"W-wider than mile,"

_What's wrong with her?_

While continuing to play, he stared hard at Kikyou's face and saw the barest hint of concealed horror. Kikyou's eye's wandered rapidly from side to side as she was obviously confused about something.

"I'm crossing you in style someday…" her voice was small.

For the second time in that week, Sesshoumaru was shocked by her voice. What had happened to that soul-charge girl that sang Etta James' "At Last" with so much feeling?

Sesshoumaru had no past recollection of Kikyou singing live without a backup soundtrack. If he was right, this would be her very first performance singing live in front of a large audience. The nation would finally hear her voice. Raw, clear, and unedited.

How she became famous lip-singing was beyond Sesshoumaru's comprehension although he understood it was not entirely uncommon for society to accept talentless pop-singers.

Was their private rehearsal a hoax? He had heard her voice himself. If it were her nerves that were doing this to her now- it wasn't a good enough excuse. Kikyou was a performer, and no matter what the circumstance, she had to deliver the performance.

Sesshoumaru settled on the notion that he had not been hearing right that day. The studio had probably made her voice sound stronger and more substantial than what it really was. Maybe he had been biased. Hell, maybe it was the Cognac he had that evening. It had to be. It had to be something because her voice now was only a mere shadow in comparison to that one night.

In the end, Sesshoumaru resolved that it was his own impaired judgment.

So this was the real Kikyou, Sesshoumaru thought.

"Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker…"

Sesshoumaru couldn't help smirking to himself.

He was not one to wish ill of anyone, but if anyone deserved it, it were the individuals that lived their lives as imposters gaining wealth and acclaim for talent and artistry they did not possess. Sesshoumaru appreciated hardworking people, much like himself, who claimed their stake on fame through unrelenting ambition, commitment, and work.

No, he thought, he did not feel the least bit of sympathy for Kikyou. And in truth he felt himself wanting Kikyou to expose more of her incompetence to show the world that she was truly undeserving.

"Let's see how you get yourself out of this mess," Sesshoumaru thought wickedly.

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**Next chapter:**

Kagome's POV

_What's happening? Didn't Naraku say I didn't have to sing live? Where's the backup soundtrack?_

_Oh God, they're going to hear me. And they're going to know... everyone's going to find out. _


End file.
